Latest Blog Posts

by Bill Gibron

26 Feb 2009


Drugs. The Golden Triangle. The villainous and violent Triads. The undercover cop losing his identity in a sea of competing personalities and passions. The boss who sees himself slipping, both power-wise and personally. These are just some of the earmarks of a Hong Kong action film, the kind that have swept through Chinese cinema over the last three decades and redefined the industry and the genre. While names like Chan, Chow, and Li push the limits of martial artistry, directors like Tung-Shing “Derek” Yee have tried to advance the type beyond the standard stuntwork and moralizing. Protégé is a perfect example of this ideal. Instead of a slam bang rollercoaster ride of thrills and fire-fighting chills, we get a contemplative and dark tale of loyalty, compassion, and most importantly, people.

It’s been over seven years since Nick went deep into the heart of the local Hong Kong heroin trade, and he’s become Triad mastermind Quin’s right-hand man. While our hero currently takes care of transportation issues, the dying mobster is looking for someone to take his place - and Nick seems to be the perfect candidate. As he walks the novice through the various stages of drug smuggling - the cooking kitchen, the importing and warehousing, the control of contacts and persons outside the scope of expectation, Nick begins dealing with a pair of important issues of his own. First, his supervisors want him to go all the way, to get lost in the role of crime lord until they can take down the suppliers and the sources. But even more concerning is a junkie named Jane. Stalked by her pimp/user husband and unable to care for her waifish daughter, Nick feels somehow responsible, and wants to help. All Jane wants, on the other hand, is another hit.

Protégé (new to DVD from Dragon Dynasty) is so unusual, so unique in the current realm of Hong Kong crime films, that it’s a little off-putting at first. When we see star Daniel Wu mastermind an opening act drug deal involving multiple cars and police tails, we except some sort of high speed antics. But as he will do throughout the entire near two hour running time here, co-writer/director Derek Yee defies convention, and then continues to push beyond the norm. This is a film about character, about getting under the skin of a diabetic, dying mobster, an undercover cop under the ever-present lure of crime’s seductive beauty, or an addict who will lie and manipulate - pathetic underfed child in hand - to get what she wants. In essence, Yee sets up a unique and quite dynamic lover’s triangle. It’s a complicated competition between duty, honor, adoration, money, greed, influence, and the sense of superhumanness that comes with being caught between both sides of the law.

Nick is indeed untouchable. He’s done this long enough to earn Quin’s trust, and when a rat is suspected, our hero has every move and excuse down cold. The moments when leader confronts lackey are electric, Andy Lau’s take on the role so dimensional and dynamic that we are surprised by the sudden outburst of rage. For most of the time, Quin is a merely a man, a human being facing a rush of mortality coming far too quickly for his unfinished life. He thinks he can beat the kidney disease that is slowly killing him, but as with almost everyone involved in this story, there’s a fatalism and a finality to his aura that can’t be denied. Even Nick wears such an “end of his rope” demeanor. Life undercover is destroying him as well, leading the former lawman down a path he doesn’t know if he can handle.

All throughout Protégé, Yee substitutes finesse for flash. There is only one major action scene, and it involves a police raid on a drug lab and the resulting escape. Yee gets his actors out on a series of rotting building balconies, and the suspense over who will survive is palpable. But this is a director who understands how to milk tension out of the simplest gestures. When Jane’s horrific husband shows up, looking like a reject from a Japanese punk band, his sinister stare is enough to raise the hairs on the nape of your neck. And when we learn just how far he will go for a fix, such evil becomes even more unnerving. Protégé is not a pretty film, but it’s not because of blood or body parts. The violence here is not visceral as much as it is dark and depressing.

As part of their standard DVD package, Genius Products and the Weinstein Company offer up a treasure trove of content. Bey Logan is once again on hand to walk us through the production and the film’s place in post-modern Hong Kong moviemaking. As usual, his commentary track is insightful, witty, and well worth a listen. We are then given a chance to hear from actors Daniel Wu, Zhang Jing Chu, and producer Peter Chan. Each have something to bring to the Protégé discussion, providing anecdotal spin on the material and a clear view of how such a novel approach bends the traditions within the genre. Toss in a trailer, a terrific transfer of the film itself, and the aforementioned material, and you can clearly see what drove director Yee to take on this intriguing tale.

Fans of the format, of regular roundhouse kicks and high flying kung fu fighting, will definitely feel flummoxed by this movie’s somber and thought-provoking tone. We truly get lost in the relationship between Nick and Quin, understand the competing claims haunting our hero’s conscience. We recognize why he is both attracted to and repulsed by Jane, and sympathize with the concept of wanting to help but knowing that it probably won’t. In fact, Protégé is so much about the human experience vs. the drug trade that it ends up feeling claustrophobic and insular. Yet thanks to Yee’s amazing skill behind the lens, and his accomplished cast, we experience all the horror, all the heartbreak. And when was that last time you could say that about an Asian action film?

by Bill Gibron

23 Feb 2009


Some filmmakers wear their influences like a clandestine coat of arms. While they’ll never really admit it, they are clearly borrowing from the wealth of directorial prowess that came before them. True originals are hard to come by. Instead, we usually wind up with post-modern moviemakers channeling their heroes and paying homage to elements both obvious and obscure. When he first hit the scene in late ‘60s, Dario Argento was seen as a part Hitchcock, part Italian cultural heritage. After all, his father Salvatore was a famed producer, and he himself had helped script several successful spaghetti westerns, including the classic Sergio Leone classic Once Upon a Time in the West.

But with his first film as a director, the brilliant Bird with the Crystal Plumage (new to Blu-ray DVD from Blue Underground), he was out to prove that he was more than just a Mediterranean copy of the Master of Suspense. Using innovative camera work and a novel twist on the standard thriller type, he invented the language of the “giallo” - the Italian crime film based on the famous ‘yellow’ novels that provide the genre’s moniker. Bird itself was actually an un-credited adaptation of Fredric Browne’s The Screaming Mimi, but as he would throughout the rest of his illustrious career, Argento takes the basics of the artform and transforms them into something original and wholly unique.

After a prosperous stay in Italy, American author Sam Dalmas is about to return to the US with his glamour gal model girlfriend in tow. On the way from picking up his final check, he sees a woman brutally attacked by a sinister dark figure. Helping the police, he learns that there have been several such incidents in the last few months - and he was lucky. All the other victims have ended up dead. While not a suspect, his passport is confiscated. Unable to leave, he decides to investigate the case. Turns out, there are several suspects, including the woman’s wary husband. As he gets deeper into things, Sam finds himself threatened both verbally and physically. Seems he is getting close to solving the crimes, and the killer will stop at nothing to make sure that doesn’t happen.

As a first feature, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage is a startling achievement. It’s technically proficient, visually arresting, and quite suspenseful. It features remarkable work from Tony Musante (a truly underappreciated American actor) and Suzy Kendall and a script that does a decent job of keeping the last minute surprises in check. As he does with many of his films, Argento employs an unusual combination of found locations and studio set-ups to create his uncomfortable worlds. When Sam sees the assault, it takes place in an art gallery overloaded with baroque and downright surreal pieces. Toward the end, our hero visits a hermit who lives in what looks like a broken down barn. Always a stickler for detail, you can practically smell the rot surrounding the cat-eating recluse.

As with many giallo, Bird is basically a police procedural, except this time, an American writer with some time on his hands does most of the grunt work. This gives Argento the opportunity to indulge in some dopey scenes of serio-comic clue gathering. They include a stop over at an antique shop where Musante’s rugged good looks give a fey clerk the veiled vapors. Later, a conversation with the victim’s husband reveals more red herrings than a Swedish banquet. Argento always plays his reveals close to the vest, so it’s almost impossible to guess who the killer really is. Even when we revisit Musante’s “memory” of the attack, the obvious misdirection offered by the editing keeps identities in check. Of course, the sadism of the murders and the manner in which they are choreographed suggest their own suspects as well.

Indeed, anyone coming to The Bird with the Crystal Plumage hoping for a fascinating foreign whodunit clearly don’t understand Argento. Some call him a technician, someone more interested than cinematic style over narrative or emotional substance. True, we don’t really care about Sam or his girlfriend. When threatened, we don’t respond with compassion or caring. But as he showed in such other masterworks as Suspiria, Inferno, and Profundo Rosso, we don’t have to identify with the people onscreen to get caught up in Argento’s approach. Instead, the combination of skills - the brilliant camerawork matched with a stunning soundtrack (this one offered by none other than acclaimed countryman Ennio Morricone) and an unusual take on the material or type can literally lull us into an entertainment trance.

Because of the way Argento’s films look, fans have longed for the day when his movies would make the transition from standard home video formats to the latest high definition developments. Blue Underground’s treatment of The Bird with the Crystal Plumage has always been stellar - but this new Blu-ray release is something else all together. It’s like stepping back in time and revisiting the film for the first time during its theatrical run. There is plenty of grain and a few flaws in the 2.35:1 anamorphic image, but that’s par for the course circa 1970s Italy. The Blu-ray really enhances both the evocativeness of Argento’s compositions and the hard boiled qualities of the technical limitations he had to work within. Similarly, the differing audio mixes (DTS, TrueHD) and variations (English Dub, Italian translation) reflect the film’s international success. Be wary of the subtitles, however. They do not match the Western version of the film very well.

Blue Underground also treats us to the wonderful bonus features they offered when the title first hit Special Edition DVD in 2005. They include interviews with Argento, cinematographer Vittorio Storaro, actress Eva Renzi, and composer Ennio Morricone. All are insightful and quite fun. Then there is a commentary track from journalists Alan Jones and Kim Newman. Informal and rather superficial, the two discuss the influence of Argento and his provocative style as scenes demanding conversation gracefully flow by. This is not a bad alternate discussion, just one that seems to miss the point of most DVD tracks.

For those reviewing The Bird with the Crystal Plumage with a full knowledge of everything Dario Argento can and cannot do, the lack of outlandishness and the conventional nature of the film overall will probably be rather surprising. After all, there’s none of the beautiful violence of later films, or the cold and calculated anti-social sentiment of giallos like Tenebre, Opera, or The Stendhal Syndrome. As with any audition, Argento almost failed (a producer wanted to fire him after his secretary saw some dailies and was truly terrified), but in the end, he used its overriding success to become one of the true Masters of the macabre. The Bird with the Crystal Plumage may not be his most daring or controversial effort, but it certainly certifies the Hitchcock tag. Just like the British moviemaking maverick, there has been no one like Dario Argento - not before or since.

by Bill Gibron

15 Feb 2009


John Gulager’s rise from wannabe filmmaker to creator of the fright-astic Feast series was only partially documented on the cinema-based reality series Project Greenlight. As part of the DVD release of his latest effort, Feast III: The Happy Finish (from Genius Products, The Weinstein Company, and their Dimension Extreme label) we are treated to a short PR piece which explains Gulager’s twenty year rise to ‘overnight sensation’ status. As the son of Hollywood staple Clu, the 50-something has seen his fortunes go from pretender to player, all thanks to the Matt Damon-Ben Affleck series. Oddly enough, for feeling so beneath the process, Gulager is probably one of the most success of the all the Greenlight alumni. Now, some four years after his initial achievement, he’s back with another installment of his monster movie series. While not bad, the third time here is definitely not the charm.

After watching Honey Pie buy it in the middle of the street, and seeing both undersized heroes Thunder and Lightning fail in their quest to get the junkie out of the police station, the rest of the first Feast‘s survivors decide to take matters into their own grue-slicked hands. So what if the Bartender is still sporting a horrible neck wound or that car salesman Greg has a pipe sticking through his skull. Biker Queen, Tat Girl, Slasher, and Secrets are still going to try to get the guns, load up on ammunition, and blast their way out of town. Sadly, a couple of cockeyed action men - Shitkicker and Jean Claude Seagal - make such a simple idea quite complicated. Eventually, a handicapped prophet named Short Bus Gus comes along to show them the path to righteousness…and escape. He seems skilled at controlling the monsters. Unfortunately, his power doesn’t extend to the mutants living beneath the city.

To call Feast III a sequel to the whacked out wonders of the gore-drenched Feast II would be an intellectual exercise of limited results. In essence, if Gulager and crew had been able to make a two and a half hour epic out of the first revisit to the monsters on the rampage material, there would be no need for this clever continuation. The story picks up right as the last one ended, with some of the characters we saw die off then back to accent their blood soaked demise. As the players move from location to location, Gulager introduces us to some of the most unlucky heroes in the history of the genre. One minute they’re making some massive stand against the beasties. The next, an accident has their brains splashed all over the walls.

A lot of Feast III tries to be so unconventional. Gulager gets a lot of mileage out of dialogue that reeks with Scream style self-referentialism, and there’s irony in abundance during many of the shock showdowns. However, there’s little this time to match the merry mayhem of seeing a baby splattered by a group of horny Hellspawn. There’s no denying that, after a while, the story starts to waver as well. We grow tired of conversations that sound like band religious epiphanies - or on the other hand, sloppy pre-barroom brawling. The start/stop approach to the action is irritating and the long passages of crawling around lose their allure. By the time the remaining survivors head underground and start battling with some mutants, Gulager is resorting to strobe-light, stop motion cinematography to capture the clash.

It’s as if the entire Feast III series symbolically runs out of steam. We still enjoy the wrap-up (including the WTF ending involving an unseen “force”) and the Mexican troubadour singing over the credits is a hoot. But the first two Feasts were so fun, so anarchic and overloaded with arterial spray that too see it come to a somewhat sputtering halt feels unfulfilling. Of course, the splatter is still present, heads and torsos ripped apart and leaking their vital goodness, and no one can top Gulager in his Sam Raimi/Peter Jackson-inspired desire to push the limits of such sluice. There’s a memorable moment with a decapitated heroine, a hungry fiend, and a bout of bad gas that has to be scene to be believed. In many ways, this series is a geeky gorehound’s dream come true. This time around, it’s the story that suffers. 

As part of the direct-to-DVD release, Gulager steps up to offer yet another clever commentary. He is joined by Producer Michael Leahy and writers Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan. Together, this group gives the film a good going over, laughing at lapses in plot logic, goofball characterization, and their overall bizarre approach to the material. They lament the lack of sex this time around (only one individual gets buggered by the beasts) and the ending appears to be a combination of purposeful rebellion and a “what do we do now” dilemma. Along with the Gulager EPK and a series of trailers, the bonus features here are as much fun - and as much of a letdown - as this part of the Feast franchise.

Still, one has to admire Gulager for never giving up on his dreams. As the child of a Tinsel Town icon, he could have easily traded on his father’s fame to become one of many untalented leeches lunching on their family crest. Instead, Gulager held on to his passion for motion pictures and finally found the opportunity to achieve his dreams. The resulting horror spoof scored big with fans desperate for something thrilling, chilling, and filled with blood spilling. With Part III, we don’t really get the promised happy “finish” implied in the title - unless you’re talking about for Gulager and his career. Few filmmakers can create a successful film, let alone a series. While he may never be a Craven or Romero, this sunny survivor can make as much schlock as he likes, and as long as he keeps the same tone and temperament he showed with the Feast films, he’ll remain someone worth paying attention to.

by Bill Gibron

8 Feb 2009


Titles are a tricky thing. Label a film incorrectly and you tend to completely confound audience expectations. The proper name not only puts things in perspective, but awards the attentive viewer with an additional piece of the motion picture puzzle that they might not have already possessed. Take the Jet Li film, Gei ba ba de xin. In America, it was known as The Enforcer. But in the star’s native China, it went by the more apropos moniker My Father is a Hero. To Western fans, the blood and guts label removes any doubt about the movie’s intentions: it’s going to be another installment of head busting Hong Kong marital artistry. Oddly enough, the Eastern tag is much more appropriate, since the film is really an action packed drama with as much emphasis on emotion as ass kicking.

Kung Wei is an undercover cop working for the Mainland police. He hangs out with lowlifes and other criminal scum, infiltrating their organizations and eliminating the bad guys. Sadly, he is unable to tell his sickly wife and doting son Johnny about his job. When a new case takes him to Hong Kong, Kung must face the humiliation of being “arrested”. And to make matters worse, while he’s away, his loving spouse falls gravely ill. This means that Johnny must take charge and become head of the household. He tries to protect his mother from the harassing jeers of the locals, while feeding her home remedies to make her well again. When Hong Kong policewoman Inspector Fong visits the family, she discovers Kung’s secret. When Johnny is suddenly left alone, she takes him back to the big city with her. This puts Johnny right in the sights of Po, a brutal mobster who Kung is working for.

The Enforcer (re-released on DVD as part of Genius Products Dragon Dynasty label) really is a poorly renamed effort. Not from a filmmaking standpoint. Li, as usual, is electric, his performance - and that of the amazing prodigy Miu Tse - giving the narrative a great deal of machismo and heft. And not from a directing position. The great Corey Yuen balances pathos with powerhouse stunt setpieces in a way few action helmers can even begin to handle. And The Enforcer really delivers in the character, narrative, and subplot category. Sure, the situation with Johnny, his mother, and the absentee Dad is manipulative as Hell, and Fong’s foolish relationship with a fellow officer sets her up for a last act bit of golly gender equity, but with Yuen and Li making everything work, we don’t really mind the old school exploitation.   

No, the only problem with this otherwise fine film is the flimsy, pro-USA moniker. Li doesn’t “enforce” anything here, nor is he really an “enforcer” for Po’s gang. In truth, he’s a put upon lackey that gets treated poorly by everyone, both legal and illegal. There’s the standard scene where Li begs his portly police superior for “a normal life” (which is naturally rejected) and the crime boss beats all his underlings senseless. As Bey Logan says in his always interesting commentary track, Po’s actions make one wonder why anyone would want to work with him. He’s nasty and inexplicably evil with very little motivation outside his own desire to be awful. Logan legitimizes the turn, however, arguing that this makes the villain that much more unpredictable - and deserving of any last act comeuppance.

When viewed through the veil of a title like My Father is a Hero however, the focus on Johnny, his competing storyline (he has as much screen time as Li - maybe more) and the work of Miu Tse becomes much more understandable. This undersized dynamo, around 10 at the time the movie was made, is jaw-droppingly brilliant in the role of pint-sized champion. He’s every bit the badass as his far more famous co-star and his kung fu skills are not to be questioned. During a clash with his fellow classmates at school, Tse’s Johnny teaches them all a lesson in butt kicking that they won’t soon forget. Not only that, but this sensational child star holds the camera like few in his age group. During the more emotional material, he manages moments of genuine pain and anguish. But he’s best when required to go toe to toe with the adult actors, more than holding his own in the cleverly choreographed fights.

Yuen also does an excellent job as a director. The opening skirmish in a high tech modern restaurant (complete with glass walls and waterfall) is eye-popping in its intricacy and drive, while individual sequences between Li and baddie Rongguang Yu have their own power and suspense. It’s fascinating that, in many of the sequences, our superstar often takes the fall. Li is seen as weak in certain situations, torn by his dedication to his job and love for his son. This is clearly something novel for the typical herculean sentiments of the genre. And unlike the work of Jackie Chan or Stephen Chow, Li’s films boil with a hyper-seriousness that makes the violence almost too cruel to watch. We never think of the amiable Chan or the comic Chow getting hurt. In his however, Li always seems poised to be beaten to death.

As for the DVD release, there will be fans that foam over the lack of a Cantonese language track here. The original English dub is present (in Dolby Digital 5.1) and while not completely embarrassing or distracting, it does do the Chinese actors a disservice. Dragon Dynasty has responded to the complaints with the following official statement:

“Dragon Dynasty strives to provide fans with only the highest quality DVD releases, including restored video and audio and extensive never-before-seen bonus features created exclusively for the label.

Though no usable version of the original Cantonese-language track was available in time for this release, every effort was made to bring together the best elements in the world in creating the greatest version of The Enforcer ever experienced on DVD in the U.S.”

While that may not satiate purists, the additional material exclusive to the DVD (Logan’s narration, interviews with Tse and Yu) make the disc a must-own for fans of Li.

In fact, it’s the thrills and character interaction that makes The Enforcer much more than a stereotypical trip through the Asian underworld. Li is his typical smoldering self, but there are opportunities for the actor to play family man and foil, and he does so effortlessly. As his international profile has increased, it’s clear that this Hong Kong hero could essay just about any role. What’s shocking however, is the limited career of co-star Tse. It was almost nine years between The Enforcer and his next film (2004’s Iron Lion), and that’s a damn shame. Under the right circumstances, he was someone who could have easily achieved the same movie star mantle as his far more famous “mentor”. Don’t let the title fool you. There is much more to this incredibly film than flying kicks and fisticuffs.

 

by Bill Gibron

7 Feb 2009


We are clearly a nation of classes. We hear about it everyday: the haves and the have-nots; upper, middle, lower, impoverished, disenfranchised, and all the pecuniary parameters in between; the name families and the citizenry within the so-called welfare state; those with power and those struggling to make ends meet. To ignore the financial delineation between people is foolhardy. To make too much out of it is equally pointless. There will always be rich folk and it seems we are destined to live in a social structure which fails to fully reward those who are the hardest working among us. But according to Lewis Lapham, former editor of Harper’s Magazine and economic intellectual, there’s another class to be concerned about - one we Americans thought we would never see.

Indeed, in a democracy, there should never be a hierarchy of power, or a true ruling class. Money can indeed buy you influence, but the ability of the populace to control its abuse is the premise upon which our nation is founded. And yet, in his inspired documentary dissertation on the subject The American Ruling Class (new to DVD from Alive Mind), Lapham argues that the US is gripped by a collection of familiar names, faces, and corporate facades that manipulate and micromanage ever other facet of our supposed Constitutional community. Inexplicably tied to capitalism, the desire for material gain, and the implied notion of happiness linked to both, we discover that those who want to make a difference are rare indeed. Everyone else just wants to make a dollar.

Lapham presents his thesis in a powerful, provocative manner. He takes two “actors”, turns them into stereotypical Ivy League grads (Yale), and then sets them on different paths. ‘Jack Bellami’ comes from privilege, and has a standing offer at Goldman Sachs come graduation. He sees himself as part of the overall banking/financial set-up of America. ‘Mark Vanzetti’ has more noble aspirations. While he too could instantly earn a job on Wall Street, he really wants to be a writer. He takes a year off, gets a self-described “bohemian” apartment, and waits tables during the day as he searches for his muse. Lapham acts as a guide for both progressing pilgrims, showing each the possibilities, and pitfalls, of their individual pursuits. Part of this process includes talking with and interviewing individuals - artists, politicians, businessmen, CEOs - who hope to clarify (and sometimes complicate) the multifaceted pros and cons.

During its opening moments, The American Ruling Class appears obvious. Lapham may look like a member of the Warren Buffet Appreciation Society, but he seems more ideological in his search. He constantly warns his charges that there is nothing wrong with the pursuit of riches. Instead, he counters that one should “do no harm” during said quest. Thanks to insights from Walter Cronkite, Kurt Vonnegut, and Lapham himself, Jack feels authorized to begin his rise to prominence. After all, it’s just the way things are. But for Mark, our instructor forges a much more intricate path. We see a reporter playing waitress so she can chronicle the life of the minimum wage earner (the prognosis: not very good at all). There are conversations with Hollywood heavyweights Mike Medavoy and the late filmmaker Robert Altman. Mark even gets a last minute bit of advice from folk troubadour Pete Seeger.

Yet it’s the sit down with members of an elite think tank whose main purpose seems to be setting the policy for everyone on the planet that offers the most insight. It’s Mark who gets to match wits with such powerhouse individuals as Bill Bradley, Vartan Gregorian, Harold Brown, and William T. Coleman, among others. Most seem content to be part of the upper echelon, frequently speaking in terms that some might misinterpret as derogatory - or at the very least, unsympathetic. Perhaps the worst offender is former White House Chief of Staff/Secretary of State James A. Baker. Beginning from a position that believes there is nothing wrong with using wealth as a means of obtaining and maintaining power, and then extrapolating said position out onto the rest of the world, he remains a focused figure of Reagan/Bush neo-conservatism. Even his attempts at apologies seem arrogant.

It’s this sequence that turns The American Ruling Class from a dissenter to a dinner companion. It seems as if Lapham is backhandedly trying to support the notion of giving up activism for a life in service of the all mighty greenback. There’s never a time when child of means Jack reconsiders his career arc. He has doubts at first, but the film’s narrative seems to cement his resolve. Mark, ion the other hand, gets batted around like a dead mouse in a barn cat’s paw. He’s against the kind of corporate zombie stance. He bristles at the notion of “selling out”. He argues with wealthy friends who have the trust fund to let them work for pro bono agencies like Legal Aid. But in the end, he takes Jack’s offers to join Goldman Sachs, and even with the perturbed look on his face, he appears ready to start his own potential ascension into importance. 

The mixed message really hurts The American Ruling Class, much more than the nonsensical novelty numbers strewn throughout the movie (yes, this is a musical…of sorts) or Lapham’s cryptic narration, filled with fancy, flowery prose. Documentaries are notorious for their ability to act as eye-openers, shedding light on ideas and individuals that the mainstream media seems to ignore. This film I a lot like Mark’s trip to The New York Times. On the one hand, the paper must serve the wishes of pure journalism. It must offer reportage without the benefit of bias or political position. And then there is the demand for cash flow. Sometimes, the content must meet the requirements of the commercial sector as well. The American Ruling Class apparently wants to argue both sides of the situation. But as anyone familiar with the art of debate can tell you, sitting on the fence is ultimately non-persuasive.

//Mixed media
//Blogs

PopMatters is on a short summer publishing break. We resume Monday, July 6th.

// Announcements

"PopMatters is on a short summer publishing break. We resume Monday, July 6th.

READ the article